


enchanted

by thenerdgalaxy (izzybeejones)



Series: Soulmate AUs [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Asexual Sam Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Suicidal Dean, Unrelated Winchesters, charlie met dean a while back and they became family, dean's been alive for a long time, just some tendencies, sam is a college kid with no intentions of finding his soulmate, there will be angst in later chapters, unrelated wincest, well not actively
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzybeejones/pseuds/thenerdgalaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where people age until they reach 18 and then stop aging until they meet their soul mate so they can grow old together.</p><p>Imagine meeting a handsome young man who’s seen as a player and sleeps around a lot and you notice a scar along his arm and ask where he got it. He just look down at his feet and said “I used to be a soldier in World War One”. He’s been sleeping around and hooking up so much cause he’s been trying to find his Soulmate for years but hasn't yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. same old tired lonely place

Dean groans as his alarm clock goes off. He knows he needs to get up and get ready for his job, but the warmth of the bed is quickly drawing him back into his soft, warm dreams... _  
_

"Winchester!" a voice shouts, forcibly dragging him back to wakefulness. If he wasn't so used to it by this point, he might've fallen out of his bed - it only happened once, but Charlie loves to remind him of it. Speaking of Charlie...

"Dean, do we have to do this every day? Really?" Charlie asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and poking at him under the lump of blankets. Dean huffs slightly from somewhere inside, feigning annoyance. "If you don't get up I'll call Jack," she threatens, and Dean immediately shoots up, eyeing her.

"You wouldn't."

"I would, and I have. Now," she says, passing Dean a mug of coffee (just like she does every morning), "the boys are expecting you down at the station at around 8, so you've got an hour to shower and get ready." Dean takes a sip of the coffee graciously - she makes a brew stronger than any other - and gets up carefully. "There you go. I'll make you a lunch, but only this once, okay?" It's just an long-running inside joke at this point - Charlie always makes him a lunch, otherwise she'd get annoyed with his complaining. Even though he's older than her, she always ends up taking the older sibling role.

"Thanks, Charlie." She nods and gets up, satisfied that her job has been done, and that it's been done well. "What would I do without you?"

Charlie grins playfully. "Crash and burn."

Dean smiles lopsidedly at her as she leaves him to get ready.

* * *

_1957\. Dean sips his soda, gazing around the diner. He's old, and just wants to find his Soulmate already - well, he's desperate for it, really, after so long of being alone. A redhead sits down next to him, with a red ribbon in her hair and a deep red dress gracing her body. She orders a strawberry milkshake - because apparently she's got her aesthetic down perfectly - and glances over at Dean, a spark of interest in her gaze._

_"Where'd you get the scar?" the girl finally asks, and Dean looks slightly taken back by the question. He's not used to such bold and unapologetic girls, but... he kinda loves it._

_"I...um..." He clears his throat softly, trying to gather his thoughts quickly. "I went to war." Twice, but there's no need to bring that up here._

_"When?" she asks, her hazel-green eyes alight with curiosity. It was... oddly refreshing._

_Dean clears his throat awkwardly, giving a small shrug. "1914."_

_She examines him for a moment, and he kinda squirms under her piercing gaze, feeling like she can see right into his soul. "How old are you, exactly?"_

_Dean glances at the customers nearby that are casting judgmental gazes their way. "Why do you ask so many questions?" he asks, hating the harshness in his tone. It's socially acceptable for women to be seen and not heard, and that's how most of society prefers it. Dean doesn't care much for that rule, but at least it keeps the eyes of other patrons away._

_She looks slightly hurt and offended at the sudden aggressiveness, but then she seems to remember where they are, eyes following his gaze. "My apologies, sir. I'm Charlotte Bradbury." Her tone is bashful and apologetic, and Dean can't help but smile slightly at her acting skills._

_"Dean Winchester." After a moment, he leans in and mutters, "I'm 61."_

* * *

Dean calls home at lunchtime, like he always does. "Hey Charlie. How's the writing going?"

"It's going." A soft, persistent popping noise comes from the other end - one that Dean is very familiar with.

"Are you making popcorn?" Dean asks, amused. He doesn't even have to hear her answer to know that she is, because that's just how Charlie is, and that's just how their everyday life works. "You haven't written a word, have you?"

"Writing is hard, Dean," Charlie complains in response, and Dean hopes she can hear his eye roll. In fact, he's almost certain that she can after so many years of being friends. "How's being a police officer? Catch any criminals today?"

"No, none. Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and-"

"-the day before that, and the day before that, I know, I know." A beeping sounds behind her and soft shuffling sounds follow it. It feels like they've had this exact conversation every single day for years now. In fact, they kinda have. "So Sam called today."

Dean blinks slightly in surprise. It always catches him off-guard when Charlie mentions Sam, despite her bringing him into more and more of their conversations. Still.. it's kinda nice, having a new element in their lives. "The mysterious Sam Wesson that goes to Stanford?" he asks playfully, deciding to indulge her for once.

"The one and only. He wanted to know if I could go to this party his friend's throwing." There's an implication in her tone that he doesn't really understand the meaning of just yet - which is kinda concerning, considering they know practically everything about each other at this point.

"Will you?" he asks cautiously, as if feeling his way around a dark room.

"Only if you will," she shoots back quickly, and he curses himself for letting himself fall for it.

"Charlie..."

"Hey, I won't know anyone either, so don't start." Soft music floats down the phone line, and Dean recognizes it from Harry Potter. "And this is the perfect opportunity for you to meet Sam."

"I told you I'm done being set up with people," Dean says with a small frown.

"I told  _you_ I won't do that...anymore. I just figured you'd need another friend besides me and the misters."

"When is it?" Dean asks warily.

"Tonight at 6," she says, barely keeping the smugness out of her tone.

"I get off at 4," he points out.

"Which gives you time to nap and get ready," she points out. And she knew him well. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? He could probably end up the night bringing someone home, or meeting his Soulmate...

He'd given up the delusion that his Soulmate is just going to pop out of the sky and finally let him die in peace.

But hey, a guy can dream.

"Fine, I'll go. But you better not run off with some girl," he says with an accusatory tone.

"What? I would  _never_!" She somehow managed to sound offended by the notion. Dean sighs.

"I gotta go, see you tonight." He hangs up the phone, setting it on the table.

And Jack Harkness must've been waiting close by, because the second Dean ended the call, the man joined him. So much for a peaceful lunch.

Dean glances at him, with his slightly graying hair and soft wrinkles that somehow managed to highlight his attractive features.

Dean settles in for the conversation, smiling slightly at his old friend.

* * *

_1942\. Dean stares out at the night sky, wondering why he enlisted in another war. His uncle said it was because, on some level, Dean craves danger._

_It's not so much craving danger, but giving him a chance to feel alive. Ever since he turned 18 (back in 1914, when he got enlisted into World War One), he's been eagerly awaiting his Soulmate. And he filled that empty hole with danger. It's a sad way to live, but at least he gets to enjoy views like this._

_Dean hears footsteps approaching him, followed by the unmistakable voice of an American: "You're from the States, right?"_

_Dean had expected to be the only one from the US on this mission, but the man behind him proved otherwise. And he feels a small sense of relief at this. It reminds him of home._

_"Yeah. Dean Winchester," he says, turning to look at the other man, who is grinning widely at him._

_"Jack Harkness." Dean shakes his hand, smiling slightly._

_"You just get in?" he asks, and Jack nods. "I can show you the ropes around here, if you'd like."_

_"That'd be great, thanks."_

_Dean leads him through the bunker, talking about different rooms and their uses and giving him tips. Eventually, in an empty hallway, Jack stops him._

_"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Dean nods slightly, raising an eyebrow. Jack continues in a low voice, "What do you think about...homosexuality?" Dean looks at him in surprise - that's definitely not what he was expecting._

_"Live and let live." Dean shrugs slightly. Jack smirks._

_"I'm guessing you have your own personal chambers?" he asks nonchalantly. Dean licks his lips, realizing where this was going._

_"Yeah, this way."_

_It didn't work out, but they became close friends after that. Dean was the best man at his wedding, and one day he hopes Jack can return the favor._


	2. when i saw your face

The party wasn't too bad.

Of course, Charlie had left him to fend for his own after a few minutes. Last he saw, she was chasing after the hostess of the party with determination in her eyes.

So he leaned against the wall, wishing she had at least pointed out Sam to him. He takes a sip of his beer - in a classic red solo cup, of course - and lets his eyes wander the groups of people.

"Hey, you're Dean Winchester right?"

Dean looks over to see a beauty of a man. He's a few inches taller than him, with bright eyes, and shaggy brown hair. Dean smiles widely and nods. "I'm guessing you're the Sam Wesson I've heard almost nothing about?"

Sam laughs. "Yep. Charlie pointed you out to me. She seemed preoccupied though."

"She's spent the entire party with the hostess, so that doesn't surprise me." They share a knowing look, then fall into a comfortable silence.

"Did Charlie tell you anything about me?" Dean asks suddenly. He hopes she didn't mention the whole Soulmate thing.

Sam shrugs. "Just that you're a police officer with a slight drinking problem, but you're completely harmless. 'Like a teddy bear.'" He grins. "Her words, not mine."

"Sounds like something Charlie would say," he says with a small laugh. "And it's not really a problem," he adds, even though it's a lie.

"That sounds like something that someone with a drinking problem would say," Sam points out.

"Aw, c'mon Sammy, don't be like that."

"It's Sam," he says with a huff, but he's unable to stop a small smile making an appearance.

They end up talking through the rest of the party, and when Charlie finds them a few hours later with a wild grin and messy hair, they exchange numbers.

On the drive home, Charlie talks about the cute hostess - Amy Pond - and how she spent her night.

"She is  _hot_ ," she gushes. "And even when she was crying she was adorable."

 "Whoa, hold up. Why was she crying?" Dean asks, feeling like he missed something important.

"Oh, it's the anniversary of her husband's death. That's why she threw the party - y'know, to distract her." She continues to ramble on and on, and Dean loses track. He feels the buzz of his phone and pulls it out, smiling when he sees a text from Sam.

 _Sam: I'm too buzzed to study._  
_Sam: What's up?_  
_Dean: nm just getting an earful of how perfect the hostess was_  
_Sam: Oh man. I'm surprised Amy hasn't called me yet._

Dean smiles slightly, nodding along to whatever Charlie is saying. She takes no notice of his preoccupation.

_Sam: Spoke too soon.  
Dean: good luck with that_

* * *

It doesn't take long for this to become normal for them - texting back and forth between Sam's classes and Dean's work duties. They text late into the night, and from the moment they wake up. After a few weeks, Charlie finally decides to bring it up.

"So, you and Sam are getting along well, I hear."

"Yup."

"Do you like him?" Dean raises an eyebrow at her over their dinner. Charlie sighs. "I mean, like-like," she clarifies.

"We're not in elementary school," he says pointedly.

"And you're not answering the question."

Dean shrugs, but can't help smiling slightly. "He's great."

"Oh my god, you do." Charlie grins widely - looking similar to a Cheshire cat, which kind of scares Dean. He rolls his eyes.

"Calm down. It's not like he's my Soulmate or anything."

Charlie leans over the table, their faces now inches apart. She examines him closely and Dean just raises an eyebrow. Finally, she pulls back and asks quietly, "Are you sure about that?" He looks at her in confusion, and she continues, "I knew something was different about you, besides the whole I'm-actually-smiling-and-happy-for-once thing. And now..." She takes a bite of her food, trying to delay. "You may want to go look in the mirror."

Dean blinks quickly, processing, then launches himself out of the room. He bolts down the hall and slams the door to the bathroom. Hands shaking, he grips the counter and leans in close to the mirror, looking for any change. Then he sees it.

A single, gray hair.

He smiles widely, starting to tear up, and he sees the wrinkles that he had always wanted to see but refused to appear. He fumbles with his phone in his pocket and calls Sam.

It only rings once before his voice comes over the line. "Dean?"

"Go look in the mirror."

"Why?" the other man asks in confusion.

"Just do it. It's..." He looks over at his reflection. "It's important, Sammy."

He hears a door open in the background, and guesses that Sam just walked into the bathroom. "Okay, now what?"

"Do you see any changes?"

"Ummmm..." There's a slight pause, then a soft gasp. "No way."

"What is it?" Dean asks, pretty sure he already knows.

"Are those...wrinkles?" he asks, sounding amazed.

"I've got them too."

They both take a moment to process the information.

"Do you think..." Sam starts, unsure how to go about this.

"That we're Soulmates?" Dean finishes for him. "There's only one way to find out." He opens the bathroom door, walking slowly towards the dining room. "Come over."

"Dean, I've really got to study."

"But we could be  _Soulmates,_ Sam." He doesn't add just how long he's been waiting for this. He's successfully avoided telling Sam most of his past. "That's gotta be a good reason for you to skip out on a night of homework."

He hears a soft sight, and holds his breath. "Okay," Sam says after a long pause. "I'm on my way."


	3. pacing back and forth - sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Sam's pov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm only posting this to give myself the illusion of productivity
> 
> i'm sorry for the sporadic posting

Sam set down the phone with shaking hands. He's only 23. Some people would think he's lucky, finding his Soulmate so soon.

But him? He's filled with dread.

He thought he'd have more time, or maybe avoid it all together. And it really doesn't help that Dean is so  _perfect_. Then again, he _was_ made just for Sam.

He watches himself in the mirror, analyzing every wrinkle. Letting out a short laugh, he leans against the wall.  _You're being ridiculous, Sam._ _  
_

Dean Winchester is his Soulmate.

Charlie didn't tell Sam much about him, but he's heard the stories. Dean's got a reputation, alright. Apparently he's had sex with almost half of Sam's school, including some teachers. Everyone who's been with him are like giggling schoolgirls whenever he gets brought up. According to them, he's really good in bed.

Sam drags a hand across his face. Oh man, Dean's going to be disappointed with him. He's an asexual virgin who has never so much as kissed someone.

Just his luck that he ends up with a sex god as his Soulmate.

His phone rings and his heart skips a beat, half of him hoping it's Dean and the other half dreading just that. The name, however, reads as one of his closest friends.

"Hey, Jess," he says, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"Gabriel is being an idiot," replies the blonde, her voice full of exasperation.

"When is he not?"

"Ha ha. Come pick me up?"

"Can't. I'm about to go see... someone."

"Wh-" she starts, getting cut off by a loud crash.

"Heya Sammich."

"GABE WHAT THE HELL?!" comes a far cry.

"Give Jess her phone back."

"Aw, don't be like that. I wanna hear about your teen angst."

"I'm 23."

"Really? You don't look a day over 18." Sam rolls his eyes.

"Don't be too sure about that," he mutters.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jess asks. Apparently the pair is willing to put aside their quarrel for gossip. Good to know.

"I don't have time to explain."

"Don't think you have a choice, kiddo," Gabriel points out.

Sam sighs, then decides to just give in. They'd get it out of him one way or another. "I might have met my Soulmate at a party so I'm going out to see him."

"WHAT?!" Sam winces away from his phone - having two people scream at you through a phone isn't as pleasant as it sounds.

"Who is it?" Jess demands.

"Do we know him?" Gabe asks, sounding like a kid on Christmas. They never really understood Sam's opposition towards Soulmates.

"Dean Winchester." Gasps. Sam groans. "Please don't make this a big deal."

"It _is_ a big deal!" Jess exclaims.

"You go get him, Sammich. And then you call us up and tell us all about it. We'll make popcorn and everything."

He rolls his eyes. "Okay. Can I go now?" Sounds of assent come down the line, and he hangs up before they have a chance to go back on it.

Sam regards his reflection for a long moment, wondering if he has the courage to go see Dean. After a long moment of debate, he finally decides to go. At the very least, he doesn't want to disappoint his Soulmate more than he needs to. Though an early start may not be too bad...

He shakes his head, clearing the thought from his mind. He's going. He's never felt a connection like this before, and never will again. Some part of him wants to see Dean again, and that part is what gets him to leave the bathroom and pull on a jacket. He grabs his keys and sends Dean a text asking for his address as he leaves the house, not giving himself room for doubt.


	4. this night is sparkling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled 'The Best, Yet Most Confusing Night Of Dean Winchester's Life'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, a longer chapter!! are you proud of me yet?

Dean spends more time than he'd like to admit analyzing every new wrinkle on his face. He still can't believe it. Ever since he turned 18 - back in 1914 - he's been waiting for this moment. And now that it's here, he's terrified of messing it up. There are some simple, universally acknowledged rules when it comes to Soulmates:

  1. At age 18, you stop aging until you meet your Soulmate.
  2. When you meet your Soulmate, you age as normal.
  3. You cannot die of old age until you've aged with your Soulmate.
  4. If your Soulmate leaves you or vice versa, you stop aging.



If Dean's completely honest with himself - which he almost never is - he knows he's going to disappoint Sam. It's not the other man's fault he got stuck with a broken war vet with no special, well, anything really, as his Soulmate.  _He's going to hate me and leave and I'll stop aging forever._ He starts hyperventilating, vaguely recognizing that this is a panic attack - which he's familiar with, especially in his years after he came back from the war.

Someone places their hand on his shoulder, and he looks over in surprise to see Charlie with a worried expression.

"He's gunna hate me, Cher," he whispers, voice shaky. "When he finally gets around to knowin' me. A-and he's gunna leave."

She rubs his back, shushing him softly. "He's going to love you, Dean. He's your Soulmate. And if he leaves you I will make sure he never hears the end of it." Dean laughs weakly, and Charlie smiles. "C'mon, let's set up a movie for you guys to watch or something."

Dean nods, following her out of the bathroom and focusing on controlling his shaking.

* * *

5 minutes later and Dean is pacing the length of the living room, heart thumping. Charlie had left him with two beers and a movie in the DVD player (she refused to tell him what it is, even though he's pretty sure it's Harry Potter) before going out with "a friend". Probably Amy. They'd been seeing more of each other lately, and Dean had noticed how her eyes brightened whenever she was mentioned.

The doorbell rings and he swears his heart drops down to his toes. He moves down the hall numbly, bottles clinking together in his hand. He opens the door, and prays that his anxiety doesn't show on his face.

Sam stands in front of him, just as gorgeous as always. But he's shaking like a chihuahua left out in a winter storm and Dean has to resist setting down the beers and wrapping him up in a hug. "Are you alright?" he asks worriedly.

For some odd reason, Sam smiles at that. "Perfectly fine. Just sort of cold." Dean nods, ushering him inside and handing him a beer.

He mutters to himself about Sam's lack of common sense as he searches through a nearby closet for a blanket. Pulling out a soft blanket, he wraps it around Sam's shoulders, still mumbling to himself. "Can't believe you didn't wear a jacket... _Jeez_ , Sammy..." When he glances up at Sam's face, he doesn't expect the fond expression on it. His words die out in his throat and he smiles. "C'mon, Charlie's put in a movie for us." He holds his own beer nervously in his hands, leading him to the living room. As Sam sits, Dean busies himself with getting a bottle opener. He opens his beer as he returns, still feeling nervous but marginally less so now that Sam's here. His presence helps relax him, and he focuses on that fact to keep his mind from racing. Handing Sam the bottle opener, he smiles at him. "Feeling warmer?" he asks.

Sam nods. "Thanks for the blanket." Dean just shrugs and Sam pops off the beer cap. They clink their bottles together and take a drink, not sure where to start this.

"So..." Dean finally says.

"So...?" Sam asks hesitantly, sure where this is going.

"We're Soulmates." Dean looks over at Sam, who is very interested in the condensation on his beer.

"Looks like it." Dean studies him for a moment.

"Are you okay with that?" Sam looks up at him, looking hesitant.

"I'm 23," he responds in lieu of an answer. Dean raises an eyebrow, and Sam swallows. "It's kind of young to have found my Soulmate, right?"

"Most people would consider that lucky." _Like me_ , he thinks, feeling his stomach twist with worry. Sam shrugs slightly.

"'S not important, I guess," he mutters, taking a drink from his beer. Dean watches him carefully, seeing the agitation bleeding into every little movement.

"Of course it is, Sammy," Dean says, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sam immediately relaxes, looking at him curiously. "Look, if for some reason you feel uncomfortable with this whole arrangement, I won't force anything."

"Thanks," he mutters. Sam seems to be processing everything, and Dean just sits quietly next to him, feeling worried.  _He wants to leave me. Of course._ When one of them finally speaks again, it's Sam. "What's the movie?"

Dean raises an eyebrow, until he remembers that Charlie put in a movie before she left. "Oh, Harry Potter probably. If it's not, I'm going to be very surprised." Sam chuckles weakly. "Want me to turn it on?" Sam nods. Dean picks up the remote and turns on the TV, watching Sam take a long drink of his beer out of the corner of his eye.

Surprisingly, it's The Princess Bride. It takes a while for either of them to loosen up enough to enjoy it properly, but when they do they're laughing and drinking happily, pretending that the tension that was once in the room was never there. They talk idly during the movie, Dean talking about his favorite places he's traveled and Sam talking about his college experiences. Mostly they just enjoy each other's company. By the time the credits roll, they're pretty much cuddling on the long couch, curled up together under blankets.

"Should we watch another movie?" Sam asks, breath ghosting over Dean's neck. Dean half-shrugs, trying not to disrupt their comfortable position.

"'f you want," he responds quietly, absentmindedly drawing patterns on the younger man's back. Sam grabs the remote off of the arm of the couch and flips through their movie options. Finally settling on Little Shop of Horrors, he puts it back and wraps his arm around Dean's waist again. Dean chuckles. "Really?"

"It's a classic," Sam replies with a huff.

"'m not complaining."

About halfway through the movie, Sam's breaths even out and Dean realizes he's fallen asleep. He smiles slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"G'night, Sammy," he whispers, perfectly content.


End file.
